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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They had just reunited brozone, they had been healing and growing together, but then Clay died.
The ‘accident’ is almost too perfect. Clay was standing in a puddle, making sure the other trolls had walked past it. In the few moments he was alone a wire snapped from the lights and fried him. Viva could still smell burning flesh, it had lasted for days even after the funeral. She still remembers the blackened flesh, she barely recognized him when they finished cleaning him up and sewing him together.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Floyd sobbed. The other brothers had been mourning in their own ways. John Dory had been quiet, Bruce had thrown himself into work, as had Branch. They seemed to have clung together, but there was still that tension, and every cry of Floyd’s was heartbreaking.
This one had seemed intentional. It would’ve been written off as a suicide if it hadn’t been for the defensive wounds on his arm, and the knife pinning his wrist. Floyd had been forced to consume bleach. The liquid coated his insides to the point it was in his fluids. There was powdered bleach on the wound too.
Floyd was buried next to Clay. John spent a lot of time out there. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to visit the graves. Branch sometimes heard John Dory singing to them, probably trying to soothe himself more than them. Viva and Poppy knew they needed to figure out who, because one death was tragic, two was suspicious.
“And three is down right crazy,” Viva muttered, the normally energetic girl had been almost gray since Clay died, she seemed lost without him. “We gotta make sure it doesn’t get to three.
Oh if only she hadn’t said those words.
“What do you mean you found his head!” Poppy was screaming a few hours later. John Dory looked pale. His hands shaking, Viva was trying to comfort him, but there was an almost manic look in his eyes and he wasn’t responding. “Sewn on Bruce’s body!?”
Poppy nearly puked when she saw the hastily sewn head attached to the too small for it body. Viva grabbed John who looked coldly at the body. Branch’s mouth had been sewn shut, along with his eyes. His ears sewn so they pointed up. Poppy told them to put it on ice until they could find the rest.
“I’m alone,” John Dory had mumbled.
“You still have us,” Viva reassured.
John nodded, “At least there’s that.”
“Maybe you should stay with us, just until we get to the bottom of this,” Poppy offered. John nodded and allowed the two to lead him to their pod. There they found him.
John was standing there, looking out upon the troll village as he finished his cigarette. He couldn’t believe he had time to do what he did. They had walked into Bruce’s head and Branch’s body on the couch. Viva and Poppy didn’t stand a chance.
“Why John Dory?” Viva pleaded. Oh how her cries would’ve hurt John Dory, but he was gone and it was only John. Poppy looked conflicted.
“They’re perfect now,” John cooed. He had always been in the back, making sure John Dory didn’t screw things up, didn’t make them less perfect. He should’ve done this years ago, preserved the perfection. “They’ll stay as they always were and never have to feel pain again.”
“You killed your brothers John Dory,” Viva sobbed. Poppy studied him more. The look in his eyes tipped her off, they were dead. “You killed all of them.”
“You’re not John Dory,” Poppy breathed. John cocked an eyebrow, but gave an impressed smile to the Queen who was tied up with her own sheets. “John Dory loves his brothers.”
“I’m a part of him,” John smirked as he worked on tying a knot. “I loved them too, almost as much as John Dory did, he just didn’t have what it took to keep them safe.
You know they begged for you.”
“What?” Both royals choked.
“No please I can’t leave Viva! John Dory!”
“John Dory please, I can’t leave Poppy…I need her”
“Pathetic. They pleaded, begging me to spare them for you two.”
Clay was standing in the puddle minding his own business, he had gotten to a point where all the other trolls took the long way and he had been alone until he heard footsteps. He looked to see his oldest brother. John smiled at him, but Clay must have noticed something off.
“Hey JD, you might want to walk around,” But John didn’t speak. Instead he threw something. “What are you doing?”
“Electrical work.”
“John Dory?” Floyd looked confused. His oldest brother looked panicked. He was clutching his head. Floyd had let him in. He noted the bleach in John’s hands, the off look in his eyes, the smile that seemed more like an animal baring its teeth. “What ya got there?”
“A smoothie,” John chuckled darkly as he made his way closer.
“You’re acting weird, John Dory,” Branch accused. “I saw the blood, we both did!”
“What are you talking about?!” John Dory exclaimed, frustrated. “What blood?”
Bruce nodded, “In Rhonda, we saw the blood on the floor. You have no injuries John Dory.”
“I heard you talking about Floyd the other night, or arguing with someone about him.” Branch’s glare was icy as he got closer.
“I’m sorry John.”
“If Bruce hadn’t called for me,”: John giggled. Hanging from the rafters by their cape was Viva, horror still echoed in her eyes, she no longer struggled. He looked to the bathroom, he had left the door cracked, hoping someone would see the queen under water. “He’d still be alive. So would you!”
John smiled as he led them outside. He let John Dory partially out as he did. John Dory didn’t speak to him, didn’t beg, John Dory was tired. John gave out another laugh as they teetered to the edge.
Falling is so much like flying, the wind in your face, the air leaving your lungs when you drop. Only when you fly something catches you, when you fall you hit the ground.
John wishes they flew, but John Dory is so glad they fell. The thud, the darkness. They couldn’t hurt anyone again, perfect.